Free Jack Ryan 6 - Clear and Present Danger by Tom Clancy

a dangerous place, and these forty men had made an informed decision to join one of its more dangerous professions.  It was some consolation to him, and because Edgar Jeffries still had a conscience, he needed the consolation.
    “Good luck, Sarge,” he said quietly to himself.
    Chavez had a busy day.  First changing into civilian clothes, he washed his field uniform and gear, then assembled all of the equipment which he'd be leaving behind.  He had to clean the equipment also, because you were supposed to give it back better than you got it, as Sergeant First Class Mitchell expected.  By the time the rest of the platoon arrived from Hunter-Liggett at 1300, his tasks were well underway.  The activity was noted by the returning NCOs, and soon the platoon sergeant appeared.
    “Why you packed up, Ding?” Mitchell asked.
    “They need me at Benning early—that's, uh, that's why they flew me back this morning.”
    “The lieutenant know?”
    “They musta told him—well, they musta told the company clerk, right?” Chavez was a little embarrassed.  Lying to his platoon sergeant bothered him.  Bob Mitchell had been a friend and a teacher for his nearly four years at
    
    
     Fort
    
    
    
    
     Ord.
    
    
    
       But his orders came from a colonel.
    “Ding, one thing you still have to learn about is paperwork.  Come on, son.  The ell-tee's in his office.”
    Lieutenant Timothy Washington Jackson, Infantry, hadn't cleaned up yet, but was almost ready to leave for his place in the bachelor officers' quarters, called the BOQ, or merely The Q.  He looked up to see two of his senior NCOs.
    “Lieutenant, Chavez here's got orders to skip off to Fort Benning PDQ.  They're picking him up this evening.”
    “So I hear.  I just got a call from the battalion sergeant major.  What the hell gives?  We don't do things this way,”
    
    
     Jackson
    
    
     growled. “How long?”
    “Eighteen hundred, sir.”
    “Super.  I gotta go and get cleaned up before I see the S-3.  Sergeant Mitchell, can you handle the equipment records?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Okay, I'll be back at seventeen hundred to finish things up.  Chavez, don't leave before I get back.”
     
    The rest of the afternoon passed quickly.  Mitchell was willing to handle shipping—there wasn't that much to ship—and squared the younger man away, with a few lessons tossed in on the better ways to expedite paperwork.  Lieutenant Jackson was back on time, and brought both men into his office.  It was quiet.  Most of the platoon was already gone for a well-deserved night on the town.
    “Ding, I ain't ready to lose you yet.  We haven't decided who takes the squad over.  You were talking about Ozkanian, Sergeant Mitchell?”
    “That's right, sir.  What d'you think, Chavez?”
    “He's about ready,” Ding judged.
    “Okay, we'll give Corporal Ozkanian a shot at it.  You're lucky, Chavez,” Lieutenant Jackson said next. “I got caught up on all my paperwork right before we went into the field.  You want me to go over your evaluation with you?”
    “Just the high spots'll be fine, sir.” Chavez grinned.  The lieutenant liked him, and Chavez knew it.
    “Okay, I say you're damned good, which you are.  Sorry to lose you this quick.  You going to need a lift?”
    
    
     Jackson
    
    
     asked.
    “No problem, sir.  I was planning to walk over.”
    “Crap.  We all did enough walking last night.  Load your stuff into my car.” The lieutenant tossed him the keys. “Anything else, Sergeant Mitchell?”
    “Nothin' that can't wait until Monday, sir.  I figure we earned ourselves a nice restful weekend.”
    “As always, your judgment is impeccable.  My brother's in town, and I'm gone till 0600 Monday morning.”
    “Roger that.  Have a good one, sir.”
    Chavez didn't have much in the way of personal gear, and, unusually, didn't even have a car.  In fact he was saving his money to buy a Chevy Corvette, the car that had fascinated him since boyhood, and was